Instinct
by I.O. Michaels
Summary: A new hero has manifested and he tries to cope with what his ability has done, and how he will keep authorities from finding out... A oneshot with a special guest appearance...


_Heroes does not belong to me. Any resemblance of characters in this piece of fiction to living human beings is purely coincidental. I know that I don't have many of the characters from the series in here, but I like it like that, that way it doesn't get muddled with multiple story lines and decreases the chance of a mess up in continuity. I intend for this to simply be a one shot, but if certain people, (Solia) bug me about it, I might make it a series. My previous work is the series "Dead Like You" based on the TV series, Dead Like Me. If you're into it, you should check it out; so far I've gotten some good reviews; anyway, now to the story. Enjoy._

Instinct

I am staring at my finger tips while lying on my bed. They were no longer the deep, dark, red that blood usually is, but a feint pinkish color. The red that was on my fingers now stained my dark blue sheet. I didn't say anything, I didn't cry, I didn't scream. I just stared.

I didn't want to remember last night but it happened. I couldn't take it back. All I could do was hope that it would never happen again, and try to act like it didn't happen.

I had always been a good student, part of the tennis team, took care of the dog I begged my parents for. Was this some hidden part of me? A cold…no…not a cold center, a hot one, that's what it felt like last night. Like the core of my body was on fire.

I'm pretty average looking. I'm about 6 foot, brown hair, grayish blue eyes, and a boring face. How could a normal boy have such a dark spot in his mind? What made me do it? And why am I obsessing over things that I cannot change?

Last night. That's when it happened. I remember it, but I don't remember telling myself what to do. My brain didn't work; it was as if I was just running on pure animalistic instinct.

I remember coming home. My hair was still wet from the shower after tennis practice. It's spring, so there was a nice breeze, and Mom's lilac bush was starting to bloom. Those are my favorites, lilacs. I need to remember that, I don't want to forget that lilacs are my favorite flowers. In case It takes over.

Mom was home, she always is. She runs a catering business out of our house. The living room smelled like puff pastry. She was making hors d'oeuvres for the bridal shower tomorrow. Today. That was yesterday, remember that was yesterday. The bridal shower is today, and I have to serve the hors d'oeuvres. I promised I would. "Pro bono," I joked with my mom. I liked to joke with my mom; we were both the comedians in the family.

Something was different that day though. What was it? Dad was home. He was on a trip, but he had come back early.

"Hey, Buck." He said coming out from the kitchen. That was his nick name for me, Buck, or Bucky. My name. Remember my name. It's…Buckley, my name is Buckley Fortson.

"I brought you something back for your birthday." Dad said, grinning.

Birthday. What day was I born? Yesterday…I remember thinking it was two days ago… It was Wednesday, my birthday was last Wednesday.

"I picked this up in Greece. It just reminded me of you. I know you used to be into mythology a lot." He handed me a box. Was it blue? Or maybe green? It was blue. Definitely blue.

What was inside the box? It was…a necklace. The same one I have on now. Hand blown glass, a shard of opal inside, shaped like a crescent moon.

"That's hand blown glass, and in the center, see that crescent moon? It's a shard of opal."

He had remembered my favorite goddess. Artemis, ruler of the moon and the hunt.

"I remembered you liked that one god, wasn't her name Artemis?"

"Yeah, thanks Dad, I really like it." I hugged him, but he seemed…cold. Not temperature wise, but just emotionally. I remember thinking he was probably tired.

What happened after that? What happened after that? Was it important? Of course it was, everything is important; I can't miss a detail about yesterday. If anybody finds out about what I did I am going to end up going away for a very long time.

Dinner. We started to make dinner. Dad grilled burgers while I helped Mom finish up the hors d'oeuvres. We ate outside, on the picnic table. Dad was asking me about school and my friends.

"How's school? Have you and your friends been out, doing all the shenanigans kids do these days?"

"School is fine, I have all A's except for chemistry, B minus; Liv and Nick are fine; never use the word shenanigans again."

Dad just chuckled then offered to help me do my homework for chemistry after dinner. He explained how to sketch out organic compounds to me. He's good at science. He wanted to be an engineer when he was my age. He always told me that's what he wanted to do, but he joined the army instead.

What happened after that? Did I go to bed? No, Happy was whining at me. That's my dog's name. She's a Chocolate Labrador; we called her Happy because she always rolled around on my bed when she was a puppy like she was really happy to be there. She wanted to go for a walk. But what time was it? The sun was setting so it was late. Maybe around 8:30?

I went downstairs to grab the leash for Happy.

"Where are you going so late?" Mom asked looking up from her book, taking a break from cooking. She liked murder mysteries. They were her favorite. She probably had almost every Nancy Drew book in the attic from when she was little.

"Happy wants a walk. I'll be back later. Don't wait up for me, okay?"

She smiled at me, proud that I took responsibility for the dog. How could I not? Happy is like the little sister that I never had.

We walked downtown. I was walking down the street and the sun was setting behind me. All the sudden a black car pulled over. "Little Bucky? Is that you?" I heard from the window. I looked and saw a man who was balding severely. His round glasses were dorky. But for some reason they seemed to fit him.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I asked. Happy barked at him once, but then sat next to me.

"Oh, work with your dad. I used to visit a bit when you were little; you were about 2 or 3 years old. You're father forgot some papers so I was just going to drop them off."

I thought back, and I faintly remembered the man with the round glasses. "Mr. Bishop? Is that right?" I said shielding my eyes from the sun by making a visor with my hand. "Dad should be at home. It's nice meeting you again."

"You too," He said. I turned and went back to walking Happy. I felt as though his eyes were still on me, staring. Then I heard his car start back up again and he drove towards our house.

Happy trotted alongside me as I picked my pace up and jogged lightly. It was humid, so the wind rushing by my face felt nice and cool. The sun had gone completely down, and darkness filled the air. It was one of those nights where clouds covered up the stars and moon so it looked like a blanket of shadow.

"Gimme the money, you stupid bitch!" I heard in a side alley as I went past. I turned back and looked down between the two walls of the brick and stone buildings. There were three guys, white, wearing baggy clothes. One was pointing a knife at a woman with her purse clutched to her chest. She looked about 25 and the kids were probably a year or two older than me.

"Hey!" I called out. The three guys, probably rich boys playing gang members, turned to me.

"What do you want faggot?" One of the side members said. He had a beanie hat with a skull on it.

"Get lost pussy boy, or I'll have to cut you up too," said the one with the knife.

The woman took the opportunity of the three boys being distracted to run for it.

"Damn, the bitch got away. She had a nice looking ass too." The third one said. He had a piece of red hair sticking out of a backwards baseball cap.

I should have run away. I could have run away, but something in my stomach was holding me there.

"I don't suppose you have any money on you, do you cocksucker?" said the guy with the knife.

My hand tightened its grip around Happy's leash and my other hand trembled as it made a fist. Then they suddenly relaxed and I felt a warm feeling in my stomach. Happy's leash fell from my hand.

The three started coming towards me. The one with the skull beanie cracked his knuckles, and Red pulled out a knife different from the leaders.

The warm feeling spread and turned hot. Happy ran, and I could hear the jingle of her name tags as she went far away from us. It felt like my flesh was tightening, especially on my hands and gums. What was this feeling that was coming over me? It felt warm and things started running through my head. I didn't understand anything I thought, it was as if I was thinking in an entirely different language, but a language that had never been spoken. I grabbed at my stomach and crouched down, attempting to curl into a ball.

The leader laughed, "Looks like he's scared. What's wrong little pussy? Got a tummy ache?"

A low growl came out of my throat. A warning. I told them to back away with that simple growl. But they didn't listen.

"Was that a fucking growl? Damn, you really are a bitch," Red said, he let out a laugh tilting his head back with it.

"Well, this bitch needs to get fixed." The leader said lowering the knife to my face.

I turned my head and bit down on his wrist. I felt the skin break and the metallic taste hit my tongue. I had warned them, but they didn't listen.

I could hear the other two scream more profanity as the saw me attached to their leaders arm with blood flowing out and down his hand. Red tried to stab me with his knife but my leg twisted back and kicked him in the ribs as I let go from the leader's hand which had dropped the knife he had been holding.

Red fell to the ground with a grunt and all that was left was Skully. I lunged. My fingers found his throat and sunk in like a knife into butter. I pulled, tearing out what had once been his neck. The leader was behind me and punched me in the back. I turned and lunged at him, repeating the action that had killed the other teenager.

Pools of blood formed on the ground. I crawled over to Red who was struggling to breath. My slick and bloody hands found his neck. Instead of tearing his throat out, my hands squeezed and twisted, a quick snapping sound followed.

I didn't stay. Those growls and snaps inside my head said to turn. Shelter. Go to shelter, no good food here. I ran. But I didn't run. My back legs kicked back launching forward and my hands met the ground and clawed me forwards as my legs hit the ground again for another kick. I was running on all fours.

I got to the yard and stood up coming to my senses. I pulled the bottom of my shirt up to open the door. Mom wouldn't like blood on the house. I quietly snuck upstairs and laid down on the bed. My fingers twitched slightly and I rubbed the blood off of my hand and onto the soft mattress.

"I went for a walk with Happy, we stopped and got ice cream then played at the park for a while, I came home late and no one was up so I went to my room and went to sleep."

That's what happened. If anybody asked, that's what happened.

I got up and went to the bathroom and washed my hands clean. I took off my clothes and went into the shower. I turned the water the coldest that I could stand it. I wanted that cold water to freeze whatever made me act like an animal the night before. I wanted to tear it out, but that would just result in a trip to the hospital where I would stay in the psych ward for attempted suicide and some cops would come in suspecting me for the murder of three Caucasian males, the ages of 17 to 18.

I got redressed in a white button down shirt and coal black pants, dressed to serve a gaggle of bridesmaids and the blushing star of the wedding herself. I came downstairs and helped mom place pieces of prosciutto on small rounds of toasted bread and she piped some sort of cream on top.

"How'd you sleep?" She asked wearing a yellow sundress covered in bright white daisies.

"I tossed and turned a bit. I was wondering if maybe we could buy some new sheets?"

"Okay, thinking about redecorating your room?"

"Something like that." I said smiling as I stole a piece of meat from the plate and nibbled on it. The meat tasted good, cold, and salty. Much better than the warm liquid that had been pooling in my mouth a few hours earlier.

Now that I think about last night, it was self defense. They had cornered an animal and threatened its life. Anybody knows that if you see a baby bear you don't want to touch it, or else the mother gets angry. And I'm sure other beasts with fangs and claws don't exactly enjoy being touched by humans. An animal has to follow its instincts…


End file.
